


Snapshots of Time XVI

by hummerhouse



Series: Snapshots of Time [16]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003)
Genre: Action, Drabble Collection, Humor, M/M, Turtlecest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:37:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4829396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummerhouse/pseuds/hummerhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disclaimer: The TMNT are not mine. No money being made.<br/>Word Count: 2,524 OT4 TCest Drabble sets<br/>Rated: PG-13<br/>Momentary glimpses of life, captured and placed into an album.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshots of Time XVI

** Laundry Day **

            Mikey stepped back and eyed his latest painting with a critical eye. It looked pretty good, if he did say so himself.

            As he dropped the paint brush into a jar of water Mikey noticed that his hands and arms were splattered with color. Watercolors were fun to work with, but they were messy; somehow he always wound up wearing almost as much as he’d managed to transfer to canvas.

            Deciding that he was done for the day, Mikey left his room and headed for the bathroom down the hall so he could wash up. When he was close to the open door, he heard noises coming from inside and peeked in before entering.

            Donatello stood near the towel rack, a clothes basket under one arm that he was in the process of filling. Mikey frowned and quickly stepped inside the room, blocking the doorway.

            “What are you doing?” Mikey demanded.

            Don glanced at him as he deposited the last of the towels into the basket. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

            “It looks like you’re taking a perfectly clean pair of towels down to be washed,” Mikey said. “We only hung those up yesterday.”

            “That’s an entire twenty-four hours,” Don said, turning to face his brother.

            “That’s _only_ twenty-four hours,” Mikey corrected. “I’m the one on laundry duty this week.”

            Don walked towards Mikey as if to leave but the youngest refused to budge. Exhaling his frustration, Don explained calmly, “Look Mikey, towels carry germs and the best way to avoid illness is to change them often. Five of us use these towels.”

            “Yeah, but all five wash their hands first,” Mikey argued.

            Giving Mikey a quick once over, Don said sarcastically, “Some of us do a more thorough job than others.”

            “I was painting!” Mikey exclaimed as Don pushed past him.

            Unwilling to give up the fight, Mikey followed Don down the hall. When his genius brother entered the younger turtle’s bedroom, Mikey’s mouth dropped open and he darted forward to catch up.

            “Hey!” Mikey yelped as Don plucked the cases off of the pillows. “We only do the beds once a week.”

            Depositing the cases into the basket that he’d set on the floor, Don told his brother, “We’re going to start washing the pillowcases more frequently too in order to slow the spread of germs. Same with the kitchen towels.”

            “If you’re such a germaphobe, why don’t you volunteer to be on laundry duty?” Mikey grumbled.

            “What are you complaining about? I already did half your job for you by gathering everything,” Don said, indicating the basket. “I’m sorry Mikey, but it’s starting to get cold outside and we need to take better measures to avoid illness. It really upsets me when anyone in my family gets sick.”

            Mikey’s protests died on his lips as he saw the sincere concern on Don’s face. Making more work for Mikey wasn’t Don’s goal, he was simply playing caretaker for his family the way that he always did.

            Don had started to bend down to retrieve the basket but Mikey’s hand on his wrist stopped him. When Don straightened up, Mikey stepped in close, wrapping his arms around his brother.

            “You always try to think of everything don’t you, Donny?” Mikey asked softly.

            “I care about you guys,” Don said simply.

            Smiling impishly, Mikey leaned in until his mouth was nearly touching his brother’s.

            “So,” Mikey began, his tone dropping suggestively, “do you think we can risk some germs by swapping a little spit?”

            Don smiled. “I’m willing to take that risk.”

 

** Bombs Away **

            “Are ya’ sure it fell in here?” Raph asked, shuffling through the debris littered floor of a second rate hotel.

            “Yes,” Don said, not bothering to look up from the device he was holding. It was the third time he’d answered that question from Raph. “I calibrated the scanner to search for positronic signatures. Most of the Triceraton ordnance is supercharged with those antiparticles and . . . .”

            Raph interrupted before Don could get on a roll with his geek talk. “Ain’t that the stuff that the Professor was made of?”

            “It’s similar,” Don answered. “Most things the Triceratons produce have a positron base, which is why it surprised them to learn that Earth doesn’t.”

            “We’ve got plenty of it now with all of the bombs they dropped,” Mikey said.

            “Look more, talk less,” Leo called out from across the room. “We need to find that ordnance and remove it before Bishop does. He’s gotten his hands on enough of that advanced alien weaponry.”

            “I thought you guys said that all of that stuff was disabled when the war ended,” Mikey said. “Why do we care if Bishop grabs up a bunch of useless weapons?”

            “Because he might be able to take it apart and reverse engineer the components,” Don said.

            “He sure was pissed that Shredder got most of it and then we blew it all up,” Raph said, chuckling at the memory.

            “ _Everything_ we do hacks him off,” Mikey replied with a grin.

            Don had stopped moving as his brothers talked, his eyes glued to his scanner. The other three turtles continued searching, careful to avoid touching any support beams or walls that were still standing for fear the rest of the building would collapse.

            “This place is so messed up even the squatters won’t stay here,” Raph murmured.

            “Lot of places like that in New York right now,” Mikey said. “That stupid war wrecked the city.”

            “Guys,” Don called out sharply.

            The tone of his voice stopped his brothers, who turned to look at him. From the expression on his face, it was easy to see that something had alarmed Don.

            “Did you find the bomb?” Leo asked.

            “Not exactly,” Don replied, his eyes darting to the left and right as he swept the area with his scanner.

            Impatient, Raph barked, “What does that mean? Spill it.”

            “Oh the bomb is in here all right,” Don said. “The positronic signature just shot up through the roof.”

            “Well good, then we ain’t been wasting our time,” Raph said.

            “Not good,” Don said, glancing at Leo. “The only reason the energy reading would spike that way is because the ordnance just went live.”

            “If that bomb goes off, it will level this building,” Leo said anxiously.

            “It ain’t gonna do a lot of good for the buildings on each side of us either,” Raph said. “There’s still people in them.”

            “Out! The three of you get out of here now,” Leo ordered sharply. “Sound the alarms and evacuate those buildings.”

            “What are you doing?” Mikey asked, taking a step towards his older brother.

            “I’m going to find the bomb and diffuse it,” Leo said. “It’s our best chance at saving lives.”

            “If you don’t find it in time there’s a good chance you’ll get your ass blown off,” Raph protested.

            “Don’t argue, just go!” Leo snapped. “Two minutes; if I don’t find it in two minutes I’ll be right behind you three. Go!”

            Raph growled but took off at a run, followed by Mikey. As soon as they were clear of the structure they split up to start evacuation procedures in the neighboring buildings.

            Leo saw that Don hadn’t budged. “Donny get out of here!’

            “I won’t,” Don said stubbornly. “You need my help.”

            “No I do not,” Leo said, darting forward to continue his search.

            “Yeah? Remember what happened the last time you tried to disable a bomb?” Don asked, watching the scanner as he moved through the room.

            “It’s just like you to bring that up right now,” Leo griped, lifting a broken sheet of plywood to look beneath it.

            “Don’t . . . don’t bother looking over there,” Don said in a slightly distracted manner. “The reading is higher in this area. Remember playing ‘hot and cold’ when we were kids?”

            Leo jumped over a pile of rocks to join Don. “Okay. Tell me.”

            “We’re warm,” Don said, walking forward with his attention glued to the scanner.

            “I don’t see anything,” Leo told him.

            They took a few more steps and Don said, “No, getting colder. Turn.”

            Following his directions, Leo turned back, reaching out to guide Don so he wouldn’t trip.

            “Hurry Donny,” Leo said in a low voice.

            “Warmer,” Don said. “Yes, yes, warmer. It’s . . . it’s hot! Here, here somewhere here!”

            Leo squatted down and started to sweep away the junk piled on one section of the floor. Above them a gaping hole in the roof showed a black stretch of night sky.

            “Found it!” Leo exclaimed.

            “Move aside,” Don demanded, tossing the scanner to Leo and dropping his duffel bag to the ground.

            Kneeling next to the football sized Triceraton ordnance, Don quickly extracted some tools from his bag and set to work.

            Eyeing the unfamiliar hieroglyphics on the bomb, Leo whispered, “Can you read that?”

            “Yep,” Don said, his nimble fingers already working inside the bomb. “Learned the language while we were being held captive.”

            The lights that had been winking inside the device started flashing faster. Licking his lip, Leo asked, “Is that a countdown?”

            “Uh huh,” Don responded absentmindedly.

            “We running out of time?” Leo asked.

            “Sure are,” Don said, his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth.

            “O~kay,” Leo said, his complete attention focused on Don’s hands.

            A second later the bomb’s lights suddenly went, startling Leo enough to make him jump. Hand on his chest, Leo breathed a sigh of relief as Don looked up at him with a grin on his face.

            “Got it,” Don said triumphantly.

            Leo reached out to give his brother a hand up and then pulled him into a hug. “You are one smooth customer, Donatello,” Leo said, patting the genius on his shell.

            “I had plenty of time,” Don said as they stepped apart. “Two whole seconds.”

            Sirens could be heard approaching and Don quickly stowed the bomb and his equipment inside his bag.

            “Come on, let’s go grab our brothers and get out of here before we’re seen,” Leo said.

            “And before Raphael has a cow,” Don quipped.

            Chuckling as he led the way out, Leo said, “I think we’re probably too late to head that off.”

 

** A Little Off the Top **

            Leo could swear he heard the arguing even before Raph and Casey stepped out of the elevator. When the door slid open he was proven right because the pair were in full stride, both trying to talk over each other.

            “It was a clean miss ya’ wack job!” Raph pronounced in a loud voice.

            “No it wasn’t, the damn target moved!” Casey exclaimed, gesticulating wildly.

            “He did not, ya’ swung at thin air,” Raph asserted crossly, stomping into the center of the lair.

            “After he took off running,” Casey said, storming after his friend.

            “That clown didn’t move until your bat scraped the skin off his nose,” Raph said, spinning around to glare at Casey. “You were supposed to tap his skull so he couldn’t . . . .”

            “Is it my fault they . . . .” Casey said, raising his voice.

“. . . sound the alarm,” Raph continued. “It’s bad enough ya’ . . . .”

“ . . . . posted a damn rabbit!” Casey yelled. “What was . . . .”

“. . . make more noise than a . . . .” Raph went on.

“. . . I supposed ta do?” Casey asked.

“. . . herd of elephants. What’s the point . . . .” Raph kept talking.

“I chased his . . . .” Casey began.

“. . . of a sneak attack if ya’ . . . .” Raph persisted.

“. . . ass down didn’t I? It’s just bad luck that he . . . .” Casey argued.

“. . . let the target see ya’ coming? Yeah, ya’ chased him down and . . . .” Raph shouted.

“. . . got ta the bell before I could smack him and sounded . . . .” Casey countered.

“. . . missed him again and he got his finger on the bell and hit . . . .” Raph resumed.

“. . . the alarm!” they exclaimed together.

Leo watched them from the TV room, eyes wide as he tried to follow the exchange. The argument was getting louder with no sign of it abating and Leo became fearful they’d wake Master Splinter.

Leaping over the back of the couch, Leo approached the pair who were still hotly quarreling. “Guys, hold it down. You’re going to wake sensei.”

Raph immediately crossed his arms over his plastron, looking belligerent. Casey spun around, his hair falling across his face, forcing him to claw the strands aside before he could glare at Leo.

“Ah ha!” Raph bellowed. “I knew it! Ya’ couldn’t see shit tonight ‘cause your damn hair got in the way.”

“It did not!” Casey protested.

“I told ya’ it was getting too damn long and was gonna get ya’ into trouble during a fight,” Raph insisted.

“I’ve been wearing my hair like this for years and it ain’t ever got in the way,” Casey told him.

“ _Please!_ ” Leo called out in his best leader’s voice, stopping the pair before they could get started again. “What happened tonight?”

“I’ll tell ya’ what happened,” Casey said.

As Casey started talking about getting a tip that would allow he and Raph to bust a Purple Dragon hide-out, the turtle in question marched off, going straight into the dojo. Leo sighed and continued to listen to Casey’s side of the story, knowing that eventually he’d have to follow his brother and calm the hot head down.

It surprised Leo when only a couple of minutes later Raph came out again, appearing a lot less angry. The only problem was that he carried a pair of butterfly swords and his expression did not bode well for someone.

“I got a great idea,” Raph interrupted, a sly smile on his face. “How about I give ya’ a haircut?”

Casey was still facing Leo, purposely ignoring his friend’s approach. “What the hell do ya’ know about hair?” he asked snidely, glancing over his shoulder.

The words trailed off as he caught sight of the red banded turtle who was bearing down on him, eyes narrowed with intent. Casey immediately began backing away.

“Now come on Raph, that ain’t funny,” Casey said, palms out warningly.

“Better yet, how about I just shave ya’ bald?” Raph asked, continuing to stalk his friend. “Then your damn hair won’t ever get in your eyes.”

“Don’t ya’ dare!” Casey screeched, spinning on his heels and making for the exit to the tunnels.

Raph laughed maniacally and gave chase, pursuing Casey up the ramp and out into the sewers.

Leo rolled his eyes and shook his head. The idea of intervening came and went so quickly it couldn’t even be counted as a thought. Let them work it out; it didn’t matter the outcome as long as it happened someplace where no one could hear them.


End file.
